THIRTEEN #2
His face falls in a way that makes me regret asking.
‘She wasn’t so lucky. When I was fifteen, she came to one of my races.
I was pleased to see her, but I could tell something was wrong too.
She was so thin and jittery. We arranged to meet afterwards, but then something came up and I bailed.
A little while later I heard she’d got mixed up with a bad crowd.
Eventually she ran away.’ His voice is laced with pain. ‘They said it was a heroin overdose.’
‘Leif, I’m so sorry.’ I reach a hand out, though I don’t touch him, just place it on the table beside his own. ‘That’s tragic, but it wasn’t your fault.’
‘Maybe not, but I still let her down. I broke my word. If I’d met her when I said I would, then maybe I could have helped.’
‘You were only fifteen.’
‘Old enough to know better.’ A look of surprise crosses his face. ‘I’ve never told anyone that before.’
‘I won’t repeat it. I promise.’
‘I know.’
‘So …’ I pull my hand away, feeling self-conscious again. ‘Do I look that much like her?’
‘No. There was a similarity at first, but now … you’re Ava.
’ His gaze settles on my face again. ‘And personality-wise, you’re about as far from Britta as you could get.
She was lost, but you’re more focused than anybody I’ve ever met.
You must be one of the hardest-working people in the whole team. ’
‘Present company excepted.’
‘Obviously.’ His lips curve before he clears his throat. ‘So maybe we could go out for dinner again sometime?’
‘It’s OK.’ I shake my head sympathetically. ‘You don’t have to feel guilty about me. We had a rough start, but now you’ve told me about Britta, I understand. We’re good.’
A furrow appears between his brows. ‘I’m asking because I like spending time with you. Not because you remind me of Britta. But because you’re you .’ He puts extra emphasis on the word.
‘You mean … like a date?’ My stomach is alive with butterflies suddenly. Very surprised, very confused, very excited butterflies. ‘But I called you monosyllabic!’
‘I know. It was pretty funny.’
I stiffen indignantly. ‘I thought you were going to get me fired.’
‘Please.’ He makes a scoffing sound. ‘You should hear what they call me in the workshop.’
‘What do they call you in the workshop?’
‘That’s need to know only. By the way, I listened to your podcast.’
‘Really?’ A quiver of pleasure rolls its way down my spine. ‘Which episode?’
‘All of them.’
‘ All? ’ I open my eyes wide. I didn’t think anyone had listened to all of them, not even my mum. ‘But I’ve been doing it for four years. That’s more than sixty episodes.’
‘I know, but I enjoyed them. I thought your analysis was very perceptive.’
‘Oh … thank you.’
I’m not sure what else to say. I’ve only recently got my head round the idea that he doesn’t hate me.
The switch from that to him asking me on a date is making my head spin.
A week ago, before Hungary, I thought he was a grumpy asshole.
Yes, I might have fantasized a little over how hot he is, I may even have had a couple more spicy dreams, but I would never seriously have considered him as anything other than a colleague.
Now I can feel my heart speeding up, beating a staccato rhythm in my chest.
‘Ava?’ He rubs a hand around the back of his neck. ‘What do you think?’
I lick my lips but still don’t answer. I must seem like the most indecisive woman on the planet, but it’s just …
I don’t date. I’m not a relationship person.
I’m too uptight. I know that. Look at what happened with Oliver.
But Leif isn’t Oliver , a voice at the back of my mind tells me.
Everything about him is different. Even sitting here opposite him right now feels different.
It’s like my whole body is covered in goosebumps.
This must be what chemistry feels like. Would it – could it – be different?
Maybe .
I gulp. The truth is, I only went out with Oliver because I thought that I should, because I wanted to try dating again, despite what happened the last time.
With Leif, there’s no should. There are several very big shouldn’ts.
It would be too complicated. We’re colleagues.
It could interfere with my job. I should say no.
So why am I hesitating?
Instead of an answer, a question finds its way past my lips. ‘Would it be allowed?’
‘Allowed?’ He sounds confused.
‘Yes. Rask might have a non-fraternization policy or something. I mean, eating fish and chips together is one thing, but an actual date …’
‘There’s no policy,’ he answers. ‘Not that I’m aware of anyway.’
I mentally scan my own contract of employment. I don’t remember such a clause, but maybe I glossed over that part because I simply assumed it wouldn’t apply to me.
‘Think about it.’ He lifts a shoulder. ‘If you’d like to, you know where to find me.’
Our eyes lock and a flare of something new and powerful flashes between us.
I feel like I’ve woken up from a long sleep to find the world around me looks different.
It’s so striking, I find myself opening my lips to say – something, I’m not even sure what – just as the wind catches a lock of hair that’s escaped from my ponytail and blows it straight across my face, blinding me.
‘Here.’ Leif lifts a hand to my cheek and tucks the loose strands behind my ear. The moment his fingers brush against my skin it’s like they’ve stolen my breath away.
We lean closer, obeying a pull neither of us can resist. Closer …
closer … our lips are almost touching when a loud dinging sound erupts from the arcade on the street behind us.
Somebody has obviously won something, but it’s just about the least romantic sound you could ever imagine, enough to bring me back to my senses.
‘That must be an hour.’ I jolt backwards, gulping down cool mouthfuls of air. ‘We’d better get back to the garage.’